A New perspective
by iluvmycorgi22
Summary: What one of the murderors was a girl? And what is she really did not try that hard to kill Fleance? This is Anna's thoughts on that night.


I leave the castle as fast as possible in case His Majesty rethinks his decision to let my partner and myself go despite our failure to kill Fleance. We ride our horses hard back to our respective villages. As I arrive at my husband's farm just outside of Bree, it starts raining heavily. Dismounting, I lead my bay horse Wind-Runner out of the downpour and into the stable, place him into the stall next to my husband's grey mare Light-foot and start to un-tack him. While lifting the saddle from his back, I feel a pair of strong arms come around mine and help me get the waterlogged leather off. A half-smile reaches my lips and I turn and breathe in the sight of my husband of a little over three years. John's warm brown eyes travel over my face, reassuring himself that I am at least physically fine as he always does after one of my missions.

Clearing his throat he says, "Why don't you go inside and warm up while I take care of Wind-Runner?"

I nod and move towards the door. "There's some stew left over in the pot," he calls out to my retreating back.

I look over my shoulder and answer, "Alright". Even though I never feel like eating after any of my missions, this one in particular makes my stomach clench at the thought of food. I duck my head as I enter our little stone cottage, shrugging off my damp cloak and boots. Sitting in my chair in front of the fire, a wall of warmth washes over me. However I still feel a bit numb inside. I vaguely register the sound of the door creaking open, but all I can see are eyes, full of hate and reproach as my dagger stabs through his chain mail and into his heart.

John's voice echoes through my ear as if he's very far away. "Anna, Anna can you hear me, love?"

Its his hand placing a rough wooden bowl into my own hands that shakes me out of my reverie. I look up to his face and attempt to smile, but I fear it comes out more as a grimace. "Sorry. Lost in thought."

The clenching in his jaw lets me know he hasn't missed the hollowness in my voice. And so we start the ritual that began when he first found out about my profession; him patiently trying to get me to open up while I desperately hold onto what little control I have over my emotions.

In a dull voice I begin, "Our new king certaintly does not waste time creating enemies that need to be eliminated. He met with Richard and me in his private quarters. I've heard great tales of Macbeth's prowess in battle and great honor, but this man had a slightly crazed gleam in his eyes- that of a person teetering on the edge of madness about to fall in. The king was so absorbed in his argument of why we should be glad to kill this Banquo, I don't believe he realized my gender. I let Richard do most of the talking. If I had I spoken I am afraid I might have snapped at him. We could hardly refuse the request of the king and live, so I did not understand why he bothered to convince us. At first I thought it would be just like any other job, no more terrible than the usual, but then His Highness mentioned one of the finer details. The man, Banquo, has a son, Fleance, and he was our second target. I knew then that the king was observing our reactions and I accepted without pause, playing along with his assumption that we are no more than scum of the earth, without compassion or morals of any sort."

With this sentence my voice cracks and the emotion I've been hiding bursts out of me in words and tears. "What sort of person am I that I was able to unflinchingly plan the death of an innocent child?" I ask John miserably.

The river flowing from my eyes grows until I can no longer see his face. With the rustle of cloth John pulls me onto his lap, rocking me back and forth, murmuring comforts into my ear. "You do what you have to, Anna. If you refused, he would have killed you, too. At least you can give them a quick death, not make them suffer."

I lift my face out of his collar and confess, "But I didn't kill that little boy John. We planned it all out, set an ambush in the woods for Banquo and Fleance in the woods as they went out on an evening ride. I made the snare that tripped up their horses so they couldn't immediately get away. Richard stupidly tried to drag Banquo down from his saddle, but he was no match for a hardened war hero. He shot Richard in the shoulder during the struggle and threw a knife at the third murderer-"

John quickly interrupts me. "What third murderer?" He scowls.

"Apparently the king did not either trust our abilities or competence to complete the task. So he sent one of his men to look after us." I explain with a humorless laugh.

"Anyways Banquo's knife stopped Macbeth's man from killing Fleance, and I knew I had to make a choice as to whom I would kill. Surely if I came out of my hiding spot and even attempted to kill Fleance, Banquo would kill me immediately. The coward that I am I could not accept my own death even though it would have probably saved both their lives. So I chose Banquo, jumped out from behind the tree and shoved my dagger into his heart."

I shudder at the memory of his death, still feeling the warmth of his blood dripping down my hand and arm. John nudges me with his arm, hoarsely saying, "And…"

I clear my throat. "While his father was dying, Fleance escaped. I patched up Richard, left Macbeth's man dead in the river along with Banquo, and we returned to the castle to report to His Highness."

John sat up straighter at this, obviously concerned about the king's reaction to our news of Fleance's escape. I reached up and touched his face. "Hey, I'm alive and I'm here, remember?"

With that reminder I continued, "We arrived there just at the start of the feast the king and queen were holding for the other nobles. I pulled His Majesty aside and spoke to him as Richard could barely stand upright. When I told him about Banquo's death he seemed guilty but mostly relieved that we did the job so well. However, that may have been due to the bloodthirsty and eager to please façade I put on," I say bitterly.

John persists. "What happened when he learned Fleance lives?"

I respond, "Frankly, he seemed even more paranoid than before, muttering _Thanks for that: there the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled hath nature that in time will venom breed, no teeth for th' present_. I had begun to worry that he would blame Richard and me for this inconvenience, but the king was so haunted by the revelation that the son of his struck down enemy lives, he bade me to leave without much thought. So we left the castle and returned to our own homes. It wasn't until the ride back I allowed myself to think of what I've done and the possible consequences."

At the puzzled look on John's face I elaborated, "Not only for the worsened state of my soul and God's judgment of it, but should the King find out I let Fleance live on purpose, he would come after me, and through me he could kill you, too."

As I finish, my eyes start to water of their own accord. John's own gaze softens and he cups my face with his hands and wipes away the tears rolling down my face with his thumbs. "Anna, listen to me; they are not going to find us. No one in the village knows what you do and unless you gave the king your name, he will not have any way of finding you. Even if he does go through the people he used to contact you in the first place, you can just stay away from where you meet for awhile."

I nod, understanding his logic. He adds, "Now stop worrying, love, and eat some stew. Don't think I haven't noticed you haven't so much as touched it." I give him a watery grin and start to eat, feeling like a great weight has been lifted off of me.


End file.
